


Birthday Pancakes

by Hypocorismm



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Birthday Sex, Birthday Smut, Fluff and Smut, Gift Fic, M/M, Pancakes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 00:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1366870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hypocorismm/pseuds/Hypocorismm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Stiles surprises Isaac with birthday pancakes, and then birthday sex! Yay!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Birthday Pancakes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [CellophaneSoldier](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CellophaneSoldier/gifts).



Isaac woke in degrees normally, blinking in the new day with caution and apprehension. Stiles, a stay-up-all-night, sleep-all-day kind of person, usually had himself pressed into Isaac’s neck, and could be flopped onto the mattress without a single flinch. Isaac envied the heavy sleep Stiles got when he finally found his way into bed just before the sun found its way out of its own. Isaac hated mornings, hated having to leave the warmth of his bed, hated having to extract himself from the octopus-arms that Stiles had flung over him, hated having to touch his feet to that cold wooden floor and dash to the bathroom to get to the safety of a steaming shower. He hated that he had to go to work and missed most of the day with Stiles, even if the bum slept most of that time. He didn’t even hate his job, but he hated having to leave his boyfriend’s side to go to that job, even if it paid for most of their bills while Stiles finished up his degree.

Except on Sundays, Isaac slept in and Stiles woke him up around noon for a late breakfast/lunch with the Sheriff at their favorite diner. Stiles would get up early for one thing, and that was their weekly lunch with his father. Isaac loved that.

So, when Isaac blinked awake slowly on a Wednesday morning, and Stiles wasn’t glued to his neck, drooling on his bare skin, Isaac shot out of bed. Stiles didn’t get up in the morning, so Isaac assumed he must not have gotten to bed at all, and that means he was probably on some weird Adderall bender, or passed out at his desk again. Isaac stumbled down the hall and into Stiles’ work room they’d made out of the spare bedroom.

Stiles wasn’t there.

A loud crash came from the kitchen followed by Stiles’ hissed out curses as he tried to keep quiet. Isaac chuckled and tiptoed out into the kitchen, leaning against the counter while Stiles nursed his thumb in his mouth.  

“What’s up?” Isaac asked, trying to hide his amused smirk as Stiles whirled around to face him.

“You aren’t supposed to be up right now!” Stiles said around his thumb. He pulled it out with an almost obscene _pop_ and frowned. “Breakfast in bed is supposed to be served while in bed, now shoo, am-scray.”

“Why are you serving me breakfast in bed? It’s a week-day. I have work.”

“I called you in sick, dummy.”

“I’m officially lost, I think. Why did you call me in sick?”

“Ha ha, Isaac. Very funny.”

“No, really, Stiles.”

Stiles just stared at him for a moment, looking as confused as Isaac felt, and then he didn’t. Stiles looked like he had it all figured out, which knowing Stiles, he probably did. Stiles caught on quicker than most people Isaac knew, except Lydia.

“Isaac, you know what day it is, right?”

“No? Should I? Is it our anniversary? Oh, god. Please don’t let it be our anniversary! I love you! I’m just horrible at dates, and it’s totally our anniversary!”

“Isaac, slow down. It’s not our anniversary. Our anniversary is the first of November.”

“Oh, good. You scared me.”

“Yeah, apparently. Go on back to bed, I’ll bring breakfast in in just a second. Try and figure out what you’re forgetting while you’re in there,” Stiles said, leaning in and kissing Isaac softly on the lips, simple and sweet. “Keep your phone off, too. I have plans for you that should not be interrupted.”

Isaac hummed and walked slowly back to the bedroom, confused but excited. It wasn’t every day that Stiles and Isaac got to just spend time together despite living together, and it definitely wasn’t every day that Stiles and Isaac got time enough to have sex. Isaac was always at work, and Stiles was always studying or working on his latest art piece. Stiles hadn’t seemed like the children’s literature kind of guy when they first met in high school, but then Isaac hadn’t been into journalism then either. They’d grown up, and they’d set aside their petty differences, and they were a pretty good couple.

Especially because Stiles did amazing things like call Isaac off of work and surprise him with breakfast in bed, or he attempted to.

Even if Isaac apparently forgot about days that were special enough that Stiles called him off of work and attempted to surprise him with breakfast in bed.

Isaac crawled under the covers on their bed and kept his phone turned off, as instructed, and waited. He curled up, listening to the sound of Stiles singing out of key in their kitchen since the boy couldn’t carry a tune to save his life, the smells of breakfast drifting in as he drifted off.

Stiles kissed him awake, pressing slow, gentle kisses along his cheeks and nose.

“Mmm, yeah, that’s good,” Isaac yawned. “I should wake up like that every day.”

“Today is not every day, Isaac Lahey,” Stiles reminded, helping him sit up against the headboard and kissing him more deeply before sliding a tray into Isaac’s lap. They didn’t have the traditional breakfast in bed lap tray like you saw in movies, so Stiles had improvised with a plate and a glass of orange juice balanced on a cookie sheet for each of them.

“Yeah, I guess,” Isaac said, finally looking at his plate. Stacked three high were pancakes, with a generous covering of strawberries and whipped cream, with a side of turkey bacon (which Isaac griped about, but actually preferred over regular bacon). “These are birthday pancakes.”

“You are not wrong.”

“It’s not your birthday, though, Stiles. Your birthday isn’t until November.”

“Yeah Have you suffered a head trauma recently that I don’t know about?”

“No, why?”

“If it’s not my birthday, and those are definitely birthday pancakes,” Stiles began. Isaac watched him for a second before the logic clicked.

“I forgot my own birthday,” Isaac whispered, looking down at the pancakes in his lap.

“Yeah, you did. Luckily, you have this amazing boyfriend that doesn’t forget your birthday, and wakes up early to make you pancakes specially for this occasion, and called you out of work because there are so many things we could be doing today that is better than you working. And one of them definitely involves you moaning my name when you come.”

“How did I get so lucky?” Isaac chuckled, leaning over and pressing a long, lingering kiss into Stiles’ lips. “Doesn’t matter. I did and I’m not one to question it.”

Stiles hummed.

“Eat up, birthday boy,” Stiles said with a grin. “You’re going to need all of the energy possible for the plans I have for you.”

“Promises, promises,” Isaac responded, matching his boyfriend’s grin.

Isaac dug heartily into his pancakes, every molecule in his body humming with content. He wasn’t sure where this tradition started, he suspects it came from Claudia when Stiles was a kid. The pancakes were just normal pancakes except they were littered with sprinkles that acted like confetti in the batter, and topped with frozen strawberries- because they were often too cheap or too lazy to spring for fresh- and whipped cream. In short, they were heavenly. Stiles had taught Isaac how to make them when he still lived with the Sheriff, before they’d moved in together, and it had been the Sheriff’s birthday. Isaac wasn’t as good at it yet, since Stiles had a couple years head start but he wasn’t horrible at it. He’d seen _Scott’s_ birthday pancakes, those were horrible.

“You never disappoint, baby,” Isaac said, sitting back when he was done, a dopey grin on his face.

“And I never plan to,” Stiles replied, taking the tray (read: cookie sheet) from Isaac and placing it with his own on the dresser. “And we’ll start right now.”

“You seem awful sure of yourself this morning,” Isaac said, tracking Stiles with his eyes as he crossed the room to climb back onto the bed and then onto Isaac’s lap.

“Somebody is going to be full of me soon, and it’s definitely not going to be me,” Stiles said as he leaned in to kiss Isaac again. He paused and let out a huff of laughter. “That was a really bad line, and I apologize fully for it.”

“Yeah, you do have the worst dirty talk in the world,” Isaac teased, pulling Stiles closer by the waist and pressing an open-mouthed kiss into Stiles’ jaw.

“You’re not much better, Lahey,” Stiles grumbled out, letting a hand slide up into Isaac’s curls. “Luckily for both of us, when the dirty talk does slip out, we’re already too far gone to care.”

“You could start with dirty talk and I would still be too far gone to care,” Isaac insisted, nosing along Stiles’ neck to his collarbone.

“Good to know you only like me for my body,” Stiles snarked.

“You know I like you for more than that,” Isaac replied.

“I have inferences.”

“Let’s solidify that theory, then,” Isaac stated, lifting Stiles up and moving them onto the middle of their queen-sized bed, dumping Stiles on his back. He slid into the V of Stiles’ legs and covered Stiles with his body.

“This is not an awful idea,” Stiles said.

“I have not awful ideas sometimes.”

Stiles opened his mouth to reply, just as Isaac bit gently onto his collarbone. His words died in his throat, replaced by a loud, almost startled moan. He liked marking Stiles up so whoever saw the marks would know that Stiles was spoken for, that Stiles was his, and luckily enough for him, Stiles liked being marked up. Isaac worked the bruise into the skin over Stiles’ collarbone while Stiles gripped at his t-shirt and hair.

“Isaac,” Stiles whined, tugging him up for a deep kiss by his hold in Isaac’s curls. “This is not exactly what I had in mind, you know.”

“Are you open to some revisions to the course?”

“Depends on the revision,” Stiles answered. Isaac sat back on his knees, grinning. He tugged his own shirt up over his head and tossed it away, and gestured for Stiles to do the same. While Stiles pulled off his shirt and pants, Isaac dug around in his bedside drawer. They each had a nightstand, and both of them contained gratuitous amounts of lube and condoms, in case they were too lazy to reach the other side. A lot of their apartment was set up in case they were too lazy, and they were lazy a lot.

Scott argued that they were lazy _because_ of the setup of their apartment, but Stiles reminded him of some summer in high school before Isaac knew the pair and Scott shut up immediately.

“You know,” Isaac said with a smile, dropping the condom and lube beside Stiles before peeling away his own boxers. “I do believe you promised one of us would be full of you.”

“You’re the one trying to make revisions to the schedule, Mr. Lahey.”

“Just testing.”

He reached between them and tugged off the last piece of Stiles’ clothing, tossing it with the rest of their clothes. They knew each other’s bodies by heart now, years and many languid afternoons spent exploring under their belt, but Isaac always took a moment to just appreciate. The boy he’d started dating junior year of high school wasn’t a boy anymore, he had grown up and he had grown up _fine_. He was made up of long, lean muscles, slender hips, ridiculously long fingers, and moles peppered everywhere. _Everywhere_.

He hummed in appreciation.

“I love how you look at me like I’m something edible sometimes,” Stiles chuckled nervously.  “Although, last weekend, you did that amazing thing with your mouth, and I was very happy with it, and that’s as close as I’m comfortable with as far as being a snack.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Isaac said. He kissed Stiles again, which was seriously just one of his favorite things to do. They used to, and still do on occasion, just spend hours slotted together on the couch making out because kissing is awesome. Even when they added actual sex things into their repertoire, kissing still was at the top of Isaac’s list.

However, getting Stiles’ hard cock in his hand was pretty high on that list.

Especially when Stiles’ whole body bucks in surprise against Isaac.

“Shit, Isaac,” Stiles moaned out against Isaac’s mouth as Isaac moved his hand up and down on Stiles’ cock. “This isn’t fair.”

“My birthday,” Isaac reminded Stiles, moving his kisses down to Stiles’ neck and chest. “Doesn’t have to be fair. I just want to get you off.”

“You clearly have no idea what you want,” Stiles whimpered out as Isaac licked teasingly at his nipple. “One minute you want me to fuck you, the next you want to get me off. That’s why I should be in charge here.”

Isaac laughed.

“Take charge, then.”

That was the only incentive Stiles needed apparently, wrapping his legs around Isaac’s waist and rolling Isaac onto his back with a mischievous grin.

“Now, Mr. Lahey, are you going to behave?”

“When have I ever behaved?”

“You bring up a valid point.”

Stiles danced his fingers down Isaac’s stomach, gentle touches barely there, ghosting over the edge of his hipbone, teasing up and down his inner thighs.

“Jesus, _Stiles_ , you fucking tease,” Isaac muttered, pressing his head back against the comforter. Stiles pressed a kiss into the soft skin on the inside of Isaac’s thigh before easing Isaac’s legs open enough for him to duck down and lick a long stripe from the base to the tip of Isaac’s cock. “ _Fuuuuuuck_.”

Stiles wrapped a hand around Isaac’s base and took the head of his cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue around it. A hand pressed Isaac’s hips down as they threatened to buck up to get more of his cock into Stiles’ mouth because there was not nearly enough of that happening.

“Best birthday ever,” Isaac sighed, trying to relax into Stiles’ hand on his hip. Stiles hummed in agreement and Isaac moaned, unable to help himself.

The things Stiles could do with his mouth were amazing, each flick of his tongue deliberate in a plan to take Isaac apart. When they were in high school, before they had ever started dating, they had one or two slightly drunken hook-ups at Lydia’s parties- because it was Lydia’s party and if there wasn’t hooking up, you weren’t doing it right- and all Isaac really remembers from then was Stiles’ amazing hands and that fucking mouth. He doesn’t remember how Stiles’ breath hitched when he first got Isaac naked in that bedroom, and he doesn’t remember how the feeling of Stiles pressing himself flush against Isaac’s chest made his skin light on fire.

Those things didn’t match up with those times, but when they found each other sober, and realized they were more to each other than just drunken nobodies, those things were all Isaac could think of. Sex with Stiles was kind of the best thing Isaac had experienced, not that he had much experience outside of Stiles, but it was so much more than just sex.

It was making up, and making love, and saying _I love you_ , and _don’t leave me_. It was showing Stiles just how much he meant to him, and how much they fit together. It was coming home after a very long day and just falling into your partner, safe at last, and it was excitement, and experience, and Isaac could not think of a better way to spend his birthday.

He had the best boyfriend in the world.

He should really do something about Stiles being _just_ his boyfriend.

Stiles sank lower on Isaac’s cock, moving his hand to Isaac’s other hip as he took the rest of him in his mouth. He traced lazy patterns on Isaac’s hipbones while he sucked and bobbed over Isaac’s length. He was lazy about it, taking all the time in the world to caress every inch of Isaac with his tongue like he was the most precious thing that had to be treated with the utmost care. Isaac loved that about Stiles, loved that he took his time.

“Not that I’m not appreciating this,” Isaac whined, “but I kind of want you to fuck me, like, right now.”

Stiles pulled off with a _pop_ , a literal _pop_ , and grinned, licking his lips. He had this obscene oral fixation, and Isaac had a hard time not thinking that he had a mouth that was meant for a cock.

“Impatient much?”

“Fuck you.”

Stiles hummed and sat up, kissing the inside of Isaac’s thigh again while he reached for the lube.

“How do you want this?” Stiles asked, popping open the cap and squeezing out a good amount of lube onto his fingers.

“Just like this,” Isaac replied, hooking a leg around Stiles’ waist, watching as Stiles slicked up his fingers. “Always like this.”

Which wasn’t inaccurate, most of the time. There were times when Isaac just needed Stiles to fuck him bent over the nearest flat surface, and that was fine, but Isaac preferred this, on his back with Stiles hovering over him. He liked to watch and kiss and touch and just revel in this amazing man he had managed to snag.

“You got it, baby,” Stiles said with a chuckle, pressing at Isaac’s entrance with a single finger. Isaac let out a slow breath and relaxed, even as Stiles’ finger sank deeper into him. He knew how this went, obviously. Stiles was painstakingly careful with prepping, taking his time just to make sure Isaac was ready. He wasn’t sure why, but he liked that about Stiles too.

“Hey, what do you want for your birthday?” Stiles asked, pressing a line of wet kisses along Isaac’s legs.

“What?”

“Like, I didn’t buy you an actual present yet, because I was too busy planning this, but-”

“How long does it take to plan pancakes and sex?”

“But,” Stiles carried on like he hadn’t heard him. “But I want to get you something, you know, other than sex, and I don’t know what to do about that.”

“Are you trying to distract me?”

“No?”

“Stiles, you don’t have to distract me anymore. I’m not a virgin anymore.”

“I am well aware of that, Mr. Lahey.”

Isaac chuckled, the sound turning high into a pitchy whine as Stiles crooked two fingers inside of him. Stiles took his time, but he was efficient. He made sure that Isaac was as ready as he could possibly be, before he settled himself at Isaac’s entrance, condom on and slicked up.

“Do you remember,” Stiles asked, kissing Isaac’s chest, “the first time I fucked you?”

“You were so worried you were going to hurt me, and so gentle,” Isaac replied, threading fingers through Stiles’ hair. “But god, you were amazing, even then.”

“Even then?” Stiles asked, pushing into Isaac slowly, one hand holding him up off Isaac’s chest while the other guided his cock inside. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You were always so nervous, and inexperienced, and you were earnest enough that you made up for what you lacked in skill.”

“And yet you still came every single time,” Stiles chuckled.

“It’s not like I was that much more experienced than you anyway,” Isaac replied, letting out a slow breath. He was used to the familiar burn of his entrance stretching for Stiles, but he learned early in his life that the best way to deal with pain, even dull, vaguely pleasurable pain, is to just breathe through it.

“No, true, and your experience before me was strictly of the female persuasion, if I remember correctly.”

“You are remembering correctly.”

Stiles laughed and leaned down to kiss Isaac softly, sliding completely inside of Isaac with a gently sigh against Isaac’s lips.

“You fuck me so often that I forget how good you fucking feel,” Stiles whispered, resting his forehead against Isaac’s.  “Goddamn it, Isaac.”

“Move, Stiles, please.”

“Yeah, right, moving, going,” Stiles stuttered out. He pulled out and slammed back home, and all Isaac could do was whine and arch into it. Stiles was sloppy when he really wanted it, his hips stuttering with each thrust, and change angles almost every time just to find that perfect spot that caused Isaac’s toes to curl and him to moan louder than even Stiles.

“Isaac,” Stiles breathed out against Isaac’s skin, breath hot, skin hot, everything just overwhelmingly hot. Isaac couldn’t concentrate on any one thing Stiles was doing to him, all of the sensations from his wandering hands and skirting lips and stuttering hips were too much at once. Isaac didn’t know whether to moan or to cry.

 No single thing lit the fuse, but the combination of all of the things, all of the sensations, drove Isaac over the edge. His orgasm build like a speeding train and slammed through him almost violently, and he came with a curse across their chests and Stiles’ name on the tip of his tongue, toes curling and body arching into Stiles’ as Stiles fucked him through it.

Stiles followed quickly after, hips sloppily moving in almost disjointed movements and smashing their mouths together to little to no finesse and moaned into Isaac’s mouth like he was trying to drown the sound. Isaac laughed quietly.

Stiles collapsed, boneless, on top of Isaac’s chest, smearing their mess between them with a panting chuckle. He pressed lazy, sleepy kisses along the sweaty skin he could reach.

“Did I say happy birthday yet?”

“No, I don’t think you did,” Isaac yawned.

“Mmmm, what a shame,” Stiles replied, making no moves off Isaac or even to pull out of Isaac, not that Isaac was complaining. He loved the way that Stiles’ weight rested on him, grounding him here in this moment. He didn’t want to forget this, forget any of it. “A good boyfriend would wish you a happy birthday.”

“A great boyfriend fucks you senseless as a birthday present,” Isaac mumbled, leaning his head back against the comforter.

“That he does,” Stiles agreed. “Happy birthday, Isaac.”

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a very late fic for one Meredith, who turned 18 on March 25th, and I decided to celebrate with birthday porn! Yay! :D I am sorry this took so long, and I hope you like it! You deserve only the best a week after your birthday, bby!


End file.
